Moving on
by KiwiSWFan
Summary: Nikki attempts to move on. Possible one-shot, possibly more. Characters TBC.
1. Chapter 1

**It would seem I now have the bug, even though I should be working on a research proposal! I'm not sure whether this is a one-shot or complete. I don't have the time at the moment but if the writing bug seizes me at 1am again instead of analysing through thousands of pages of articles, I may continue.**

**Moving on**

**Chapter 1: The three musketeers no more.**

"_We agreed to move on."_

_We did"_

"_So move on."_

"_I am."_

"_Not fast enough."_

Move on. That's what you'd agreed once _he'd _gone. The three musketeers no more.

So you were moving on.

His stuff was gone, his number deleted from your phone and his desk filled by someone else.

Luckily, not a pathologist. And oh so very different from _him._

_He _had been passionate and hot-tempered but never angry in this way. The new boy was different._ Barely the same_ _species._

You settled into an easy-going working relationship. Not the same. Never the same. But eventually the sparring was there. Sparring as you the elder colleague tried to steady him. He rebelling against your steadying, mature influence.

He commented on your desire to _control. _You wondered if that had driven _him_ away. Had _he _simply had enough?

So, you were trying to move on but meeting people outside of work was difficult. It always had been. Your work was your life.

A date with a Science Minister but he just didn't match up.

You wondered afterwards. A bit taller than you, brown hair, charming. You should have realised what you were doing. But anyway, the comparisons stopped there. Or they should have done. But even more so than before you compared everybody to _him._

So you threw yourself into a new social life even more and kept busy, oh so busy, so that after a 12-hour day at work and a night socialising, you were too _exhausted_ to lie awake and think. Never matter that you were sleeping 3-4 hours a night.

You thought you were doing well until Leo cornered you one day.

"Nikki, when we agreed to move on…"

"Yes…?" Your tone should have been warning enough.

"Well, ah, I don't know how to say this but are you sure you're ready to move on… romantically?"

You've always had a temper. It was the reason you and _he_ had such intense rows. Leo, however, has rarely suffered its effects. Until now.

"Romantically? I don't quite see what you mean." Your tone is icy. Leo visibly flinches but continues.

"Drinks, dinner, dates?" Isn't it a bit soon to be moving on?"

"Moving on from what? A relationship that never existed. That's a bit difficult, don't you think?"

Leo sighs. He's been building up to this. "Whether you acknowledge it or not, you were in a relationship for ten years and you have not once stopped to grieve. I don't know what happened between you before he left but I'm damn sure he didn't want it to end like this. You won't hear his name, every trace of him is going from your life, from my life, from here. You've filled your life by being busy. And, sometime, sometime, you're going to have to stop…"

"HOW DARE YOU…" You glare and almost stop. Leo doesn't deserve this. But something's driving you on.

"This is me filling my life now, now…" You falter.

Leo comes closer and holds you protectively as you cry. "Shhh. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just concerned."

You stay there for a while, crying while Leo holds you. You don't see Clarissa roll past or see her stop Jack from coming in.

You sob your heart out to Leo. "I can't do this anymore. Far from removing him from my life, I see him everywhere I go. I feel his absence in every facet of my life."

Leo listens and eventually you stop.

"I'm taking you home, you need sleep. You're run down."

He takes you home, grabbing a Chinese on the way through. _Chinese_. Your favourite Friday night takeaway. Not that he was to know.

He looks at you an hour later as you shoo him out the door.

"_Nikki. You need to move on. And that won't happen until you sort out your feelings. And that won't happen until you talk to him. Do you even know this was the end?"_

Leo's final words echo round your mind for hours after he left. It's just as you eventually retire to bed (with a strong shot of vodka) that you remember what he said earlier: _"I don't know what happened between you before he left but I'm damn sure he didn't want it to end like this._"

All sense of sleep is gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed this, including Littlefoot19, mari2990, Decidedly Average, dinabar and greyslostwho. Well, this is getting written whilst my proposal is NOT! This very much reflects how I see Nikki's feelings and reactions as evidenced in those lost, hurt looks we keep seeing this series. Thanks for reading and for the reviews : -)**

**Moving on**

**Chapter2: Everything and nothing.**

The phrase, _"I don't know what happened between you…" _echoes around your head for hours. The answer was quite simple, really.

_Everything and nothing._

It was a hot summer's day. Your day off. Harry had come by after work with a bottle of wine and a takeaway. Your favourite South African red and an Indian. The same meal you'd had when he'd be living with you.

Only this time the meal had not been consumed, the wine not drunk.

You'd clocked his uneasiness as he came through the door.

No hug. "My hands are full," he'd ventured.

Since when did that stop him, you'd wondered uneasily.

He'd started to look for glasses when you asked what was wrong.

He'd frozen, turned round, lifted his eyebrow in that familiar way of his, "That obvious, am I?"

"Only to me," you'd teased, not knowing this was the worst possible way to lead the conversation.

He'd sighed, looked down for a long moment. When he raised his eyes, they seemed to be shining.

"I received an email today. An unexpected one. My name was mentioned to a university for a professorship. Before you ask, I didn't seek this out. I sent my CV and recent research over and... I think they're considering me for a position."

You looked at him, silently. Not capable of speaking. Not even sure where to start.

Instead of looking happy, excited and honoured, he looks tortured.

"Nikki, I haven't mentioned this to Leo. I need to discuss it with you first."

"Why?" The word dropped like a stone from your lips. Your tone confused.

Harry himself looked confused. "Well, because, I, I can't do this without you. "

What seemed obvious to him, seemed confusing to you.

"Nikki, the job. It's in New York..."

At this you stepped back, shaking your head…Not this again. He couldn't go, he couldn't leave you.

But, of course, he wasn't _leaving you_. To leave you would imply that you were together.

You stepped back, confused, tears forming in your eyes.

"I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I think you should go."

Harry stepped forward, took your hands. "Please, Nikki, we need to talk. I've… this has all come out wrong."

Your mind slowly clocked into gear as your confusion and hurt was replaced by anger.

"No, Harry, we don't need to talk. From memory, the American academic year starts before the English one, about a month earlier, meaning you have what, 3 weeks before you start?"

Harry half-smiled. That look you loved. That caused a funny feeling to form in your stomach.

"No fooling you, is there? But, please, Nikki,…"

You'd cut him off, there was no point. You didn't want an argument, screaming and shouting like last time.

"Harry, this opportunity won't come up again. You know the Lyell is losing funding and a professorship is all you've ever dreamed of.

"Not quite…" he'd ventured quietly. You'd thrown him a look and moved swiftly on. You never mentioned Budapest. It was an unwritten rule. A forbidden topic. Why would he bring it up now?

Thinking of Budapest made you waiver but you said, "I don't want to argue. We both know there's nothing keeping you here. Only a fool would turn down an opportunity such as this."

He'd looked at you for a long while, eyes still shining.

Afterwards, you'd wondered and you still do, even though you don't want to, what he was thinking.

He'd eventually moved, raised his arms and hugged you. You had stood there for what seemed like hours. You had breathed in his oh so familiar scent, snuggled into his familiar hold and then resolutely set your shoulders and pulled away. When you were ready. Ready to say goodbye.

He'd looked at you again, sighed and left.

Maybe Jack was right. You'd _controlled_ that conversation that night. Admittedly in an effort to avoid confrontation and hurt. But thinking back now, you wish you'd let go and left him the opportunity to speak.

Too late.

By the time you'd arrived the next morning, he'd accepted the offer and told Leo.

Given the leave he had owing, he was gone by the end of the week. You'd been flat-out with pms and the hand-over had occurred in a rush on Friday evening.

You'd assumed there would be last drinks but there wasn't time. He'd booked a flight to leave straight away.

You'd said goodbye at the airport. He had tried one last time to talk to you. "Nikki, when I said that the professorship was not all I ever wanted…", You'd cut him off again.

"Harry, we know what you wanted and it's just not possible." Even thinking about Anna and his unborn child hurt too much. His insistence on discussing this was rubbing salt in the wounds ripped open by news of his departure.

He'd sighed, turned on his heel and left.

Leo had called in that night as you were tidying. Removing every trace of _him_ from your life. _Moving on._

He'd appeared shocked by your actions and unsure of how to approach you. He'd brought flowers. _Flowers._ As if you'd suffered a loss.

The conversation was short.

"Nikki, I…"

"No, Leo, don't. Just. Don't. He's gone. Forever. This," You'd gestured to your tidying, the photos, books, _his_ orange jumper… _everything_ in a very full black bag, ready to throw out, "This is me moving on."

"Moving on?"

"Yes, we need to move on, don't we?"

"Yes. Yes, I suppose we do." His tone unsure, he agreed. "Should take the bag out to the bins for you?"

You'd agreed, feeling a tug at your heartstrings but determined that this was the best course to adopt.

You'd sat there after he'd left staring at the flowers and went to get a vase. Then you saw it. The bottle of red. A witness to your _loss._

Suddenly, sobbing, you'd picked it up and thrown it at the wall, it smashed everywhere and you'd curled up in a ball.

Hours later, you woke up cold and alone in the corner of your living room.

You tidied up the mess, depositing the rubbish directly in the bin and you'd gone to bed.

This was you. Back in control. Moving on.


End file.
